Steiner

Based
on the Combat! episode “The Long Way Home” written by Ed Lakso

Story
Copyright 2003 by Terry Pierce

This
story was written for the Purple Hearts 2003 Labor Day challenge.It’s an attempt to explain why Caje was tied during his interrogation (when Saunders, Doc,
Kirby, and Littlejohn presumably weren’t tied for theirs) and why the
interrogations seemed to be pretty brief “this guy’s not gonna
talk either so we might as well let him go” sessions.

Steiner
followed Tietzl to the steps of the small cottage,
paused, and turned around.Schumann
continued to shove the prisoner up the path.The American’s eyes flashed with anger each time the guard laid a hand on
him, and Steiner smiled.The man didn’t
like being pushed.

It
would be a pleasure to interrogate him.Surely his screams would be effective on the stubborn American
sergeant.After all, even a
compassionate German commander couldn’t be expected to cooperate to save the
likes of the grocery clerk.

Steiner
pulled off his gloves and wondered what the prisoner would look like, groveling
for mercy.Most of them did, sooner or
later.But as Steiner appraised the man
– his inferior coloring, his obvious ethnicity, the deep scar beneath his lower
lip - he noticed the Ami suddenly look scornful as he glanced at the flowerpots
lining the cottage’s picture window.

Steiner’s
smile vanished.How dare an untermenchen sneer at the tastes of a ranking officer in
the Fuehrer's SS!He would be taught a
measure of respect even if it took time away from questioning him.

Schumann
prodded the American by and pushed him up onto the porch.The prisoner wheeled around angrily, but
Schumann brandished his rifle.As the
American disappeared into the cottage, Steiner slapped his gloves against his
thigh, turned smartly, and marched up the steps.

He
loved his work; truly he did.

He
passed through the door of the house and saw Brummel
standing in his customary spot by the fireplace.Good, Steiner thought.The lieutenant was ready to assist him.Steiner stepped around Tietzl
and Schumann, both busy corralling the American in the center of the small
parlor.Settling himself comfortably
behind his desk, Steiner studied the captive, wondering how best to question
him.

Should
he begin with threats?Or a false
promise that cooperation would bring about a stay of execution?

Steiner
decided neither tack would work.The
prisoner, his hands clenched into fists, was glaring at him.Obviously, no matter what was said, the man
had no intention of cooperating.

Well,
then he would be taught some manners first.

Steiner
ordered Tietzl to remove the prisoner’s beret.Tietzl yanked it
off him.The American snarled, and
Schumann shoved him closer to the desk.Coal-black hair spilled into the prisoner’s hate-filled eyes and he
suddenly looked dangerous.

A
chill ran up Steiner’s spine, but he leaned back in his chair, laced his
fingers together, and looked at ease.The prisoner was outnumbered four to one and thoroughly at his
mercy.What could he possibly…

The
American suddenly dove for him.Hands
quicker than Steiner could have imagined clamped around his neck.Steiner squawked and fell off his chair,
pulling the American, much stronger than he looked, over the desk and nearly
down on top of him.Schumann and Tietzl jumped on the prisoner, shouting in alarm and
hauling him backward.Brummel rushed to his commander’s aid as the guards
wrestled the American to the floor.

“You
fools!”Steiner coughed and gasped,
trying to climb back into his chair.“You should have tied him!”He
allowed Brummel to help him up and then struggled to
loosen his collar.“He knows he’s going
to die, so he has nothing to lose by attacking me!”

It
was his own fault the prisoner knew his fate, but Steiner firmly believed in
blaming others for his mistakes.

Brummel hurried to the other room and returned with a coil of rope.He tossed it to the guards, shouting at them
to tie the prisoner.They yanked the
struggling American’s hands behind him and, sitting on his legs and back, bound
his wrists together.Then hauling him to
his feet, they pulled him toward a chair Brummel was
placing in front of the desk.

The
prisoner saw what they intended to do and began fighting again.Twisting and kicking, he nearly got himself
free.Brummel
rushed in and grabbed the man by his collar to pull him forward.As Brummel and Schumann
forced the American into the chair, Tietzl tied him
to it.Brummel
made sure the knots were secure and, hoping everything was satisfactory,
returned to the fireplace.

Steiner
did indeed feel safer, and finished putting everything back on his desk he
reached for a cigarette.Placing it
between his lips, he smiled magnanimously.“You don’t mind if I smoke, do you?”

The
prisoner glowered at him but was no threat now.As long as he was tethered to the chair he was completely helpless.

The
thought of it stoked Steiner’s sadism.He nodded at Schumann who pulled his rifle off his back and smashed its
butt into the prisoner’s right shoulder.The American jerked upright, his face going white.

Steiner
chuckled.“When I ask a question, I
expect an answer.”

The
prisoner said nothing, panting for air.

Steiner
nodded at Schumann again, and the American received another blow.He shuddered inside the ropes and gasped,
“Paul LeMay.Private, First Class.Serial
Number 1019698.”

“It’s
very nice to meet you, Private LeMay.”Steiner exhaled a cloud of smoke.“We should get better acquainted.Perhaps you would like to tell me who your
higher superiors are?”

LeMay didn’t answer the question, and Steiner waved at Tietzl.

Tietzl aimed his rifle at LeMay’s left shoulder,
and again the prisoner gasped in pain.

Steiner
no longer signaled his men.They knew
the routine.They were also friends of
Dieter Horst’s, the guard that LeMay had attacked and
knocked unconscious last night.Tietzl slammed his rifle into LeMay’s
ribs, and Schumann delivered a blow to his stomach.

LeMay doubled up, the ropes cutting into his chest.Still, he remained silent except for his
harsh breathing, and Brummel suggested trying
something else.

“Maybe
we should do what we did to the grocery clerk?”

Steiner
knew Brummel was referring to a technique that would
cause terrible pain in LeMay’s neck and
shoulders.It was virtually guaranteed
to produce results.Steiner took another
drag on his cigarette, tapped it over an ornate porcelain ashtray decorated
with a gold eagle and swastika, and nodded.

Brummel got behind LeMay, grabbed him by his hair,
and yanked his head back.As LeMay strained against the ropes, Brummel
forced the American’s head lower and lower, bowing him over the back of the
chair.The muscles in LeMay’s neck stood out, his arms shook, and his face turned
red, but incredibly he kept quiet.

Steiner
knew the grocery clerk had been shrieking in agony long before this.If Brummel forced LeMay any lower it could break the man’s neck.Impatient, he waved Brummel
off.

Brummel nodded and released LeMay but immediately
struck him, hitting his throat.

LeMay coughed and gagged, sucking air through his teeth, as he struggled to
sit up.

“What
report did your sergeant radio in to his superiors the other night?” Brummel demanded.

LeMay didn’t answer and the lieutenant backhanded him.

“Did
you see anything to report while reconnoitering our lines?”

LeMay uttered something in French, but neither Brummel
nor Steiner understood the phrase.When LeMay grinned around bloody teeth, Steiner realized it had
been an insult.He barked at Brummel to return to the fireplace and Schumann and Tietzl to resume beating the American.As their rifle blows rained down on the
prisoner, Steiner stubbed out his cigarette, rose, and stomped to the window.

He
looked past imported lace curtains to see Sergeant Saunders outside, still
scratching out the grave he’d been ordered to dig.Saunders worked tirelessly under the hot
summer sun, neither his injuries nor a lack of sleep seeming to have much of an
effect on him.And without any screams
coming from the cottage, it appeared he would never be demoralized.

But
if he weren’t demoralized, how would his men be?

Steiner
frowned, becoming angrier.LeMay was obviously as obstinate as his commander.And Saunders had endured nearly eight hours
of interrogation without crying out or divulging anything.If LeMay were to do
the same thing, he would not only bolster the prisoners’ solidarity but make it
impossible to phone a satisfactory report in to headquarters.

Steiner
whirled and ordered Teitzl and Schumann to stop.LeMay sagged
against the ropes binding him to the chair.Crossing the room, Steiner picked up his riding crop.He would have LeMay
untied and stripped to the waist, to be beaten with it.A tiring method of persuasion, true, but one
that rarely failed to loosen prisoners’ tongues.

The
thought of LeMay free of the ropes, though, suddenly
made Steiner nervous. What if Schumann and Tietzl
couldn’t hold onto him? Steiner remembered the feel of LeMay’s hands around his neck and had second thoughts.This time LeMay
could grab one of the guards’ guns and…

Maybe
untying him wasn’t such a good idea.

Steiner
ordered Teitzl out of the way, strode toward LeMay, and snapped the riding crop against the prisoner’s arm
to get his attention.There had to be
some other way to defeat him.As LeMay struggled to sit up, his hair and face dripping with
sweat, Steiner slid the whip under the prisoner’s chin to force his head
back. He looked into LeMay’s eyes and saw
resentment there.

Resentment,
yes…and even better, now there was some fear!

Excitement
surged through Steiner.LeMay was defeated already!He was a coward who put on a good show but, like Sergeant Ackers and his
men, was easily intimidated.If LeMay didn’t talk soon, at least he’d wail just as
pathetically.

Steiner
pulled the riding crop out from beneath LeMay’s chin,
walked toward a map fastened to the wall, and took a seat beneath it.In a confident tone, he said, “We’ll try a
different line of questioning since you don’t seem to know who your commanders
are.You can tell me about your
unit.It’s the 361st Infantry
Division, isn’t it?”

LeMay shut his eyes, Schumann clubbed him, and the American groaned.

Steiner
relished the sound of it.“Before your
capture, how much of your regiment was deployed in the Lorelle
Valley?”

LeMay looked at the floor and Schumann swung his rifle.Again LeMay
groaned, but Steiner wanted something more satisfactory.He waited impatiently for the prisoner to
recover and tapped the riding crop noisily against his knee.Then he leaned back in his seat and lifted
the whip to point it at the center of the map.

“What
was your strength in this sector?”He
gave LeMay choices.“Company? Battalion?”

LeMay dropped his gaze again and didn’t give him an answer.

Brummel interjected, “The prisoner who got away…he was from your group.Did he have any information?”

LeMay swallowed and blinked before lifting his head to stare at the wall
behind the desk.

Steiner
had had enough.The American would
cooperate.He shifted himself forward in
his chair and said ominously, “You struck one of my men.”

LeMay shuddered, his breathing erratic.

“You
will die for it.”

LeMay’s jaw muscles twitched.

Steiner
got up and walked toward him.He saw LeMay lower his head, watching his approach - and the
riding crop - from the corners of his eyes.Pleased at this, Steiner paused at the desk and said, “I’ll give you a
choice - you may die mercifully or slowly.”He made a show of bringing up the whip to point it at another map lying
on the desktop.“Now, your strength in
this sector?”

LeMay raised his head, seemed to gather himself, and said defiantly in a
halting voice, “My name is Paul LeMay.”

Steiner’s
face darkened.

“My
rank is Private, First Class.”

Steiner
began trembling with rage.

“My
serial number is 10…”

Steiner
sliced the air with the riding crop and slashed LeMay’s
face.

LeMay twisted in pain, but he stifled a cry.Furious, Steiner shouted a command.Tietzl and Schumann hustled forward to untie
the prisoner.

As
they pulled him from the chair and dragged him away, LeMay
pressed a hand to the ugly welt on his cheek and looked back, surprised he was
through being questioned.But Steiner
knew the interrogation would come to nothing.LeMay would only continue to make a fool of
him, just as Saunders had.And Steiner
had to get something he could report to his superiors out of one of the
Americans quickly.

Or
face unpleasant consequences himself.

He
tried to compose himself, turned around, and walked stiffly past Brummel.Moving into
the other room of the cottage, he approached the still form lying quietly on
the bed.The sight of his earlier
handiwork cheered him.Weak, spineless,
this American posed no threat.